Even Silence Cannot Keep Love Out
by Pandora14
Summary: After discovering a girl in an alleyway and realizing his love for her, Spot Conlon must make a decision: her or his reputation? *finished* Story one of TCT series
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer! As you all know, I don't own Spot, Disney does. I own Tuesday and any other characters in the story that don't appear in the movie.  
Chapter 1  
  
Spot surveyed the streets as he made his way back towards the Brooklyn lodging house, his gold-topped cane in one hand like a sword. His pockets jingled as his newly acquired coins moved with his fearless steps. Spot knew every inch of Brooklyn and could walk the streets in pitch black. Brooklyn was his territory and he knew everything that happened in the area. Spot scowled at beggars along the sidewalks pleading for spare change and growled at almost anyone who passed by. In his mind Brooklyn belonged to him, and no one but him, and nobody was going to stand in his way.  
  
In the distance over the roofs of the houses lining the streets, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky with light purples and pinks, signaling him to quicken his step for today was Tuesday, the Brooklyn newsies poker night at the Lodging House.  
  
Spot began going over in his mind what he would say to all the losers when he revealed his winning hand, when he suddenly tripped over something lying in the alleyway just a few blocks from the Lodging House. Regaining his balance he reached down and grabbed at a piece of the thing he had tripped over and found that it was a human. Dragging the figure to its feet he slammed it against the brick wall, his hands firmly gripping the figure's shoulders.  
  
"Hey what are ya doin' sleepin' in dis here alley where's I'se can trip all over ya and break me neck?"  
  
Spot waved his cane in the figure's face, accidentally hitting the figure's cap. The heather gray cap fell back, letting a cascade of strawberry- blonde hair fall out and tumble down around the figure's shoulders. The figure was a girl! Spot lost his train of thought for a moment starring at her. She stood just a few inches shorter than Spot. Her dark green eyes sparkled against the setting of the sun's rays. Her skin was ivory, but her face was made even paler out of fright. Spot looked her over for a moment and noticed the brown boy's pants and shirt she was wearing were ripped and stained with blood from cuts on her arms and face. Spot glanced into her eyes and saw the fear lying there as she stared wide-eyed at him, her eyes unblinking, and quickly loosened his grip on her shoulders.  
  
"Hey kid, what happened to ya?"  
  
Silence filled the space between them.  
  
"Hey, can ya hear me?"  
  
The girl's body began to tremble beneath his hands. Spot shook her slightly.  
  
"Say sumthin'"  
  
The girl's eyes rolled back in her head and she suddenly collapsed into his arms. Sighing to himself he took her into his arms and made his way towards the Lodging House. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Inside the other boys had already begun playing the game, when Spot walked in, a girl in his arms. Aces looked up just as Spot walked in and began laughing.  
  
"Well, well, hey guys look Spot picked up a new goyl."  
  
The Lodging House echoed with laughter, until they noticed that Spot wasn't laughing. A bead of sweat trickled down his face from walking four blocks in the summer heat with a girl in his arms, but he immediately began shouting orders to the boys.  
  
"Aces, Pockets, and Snipes, go get fresh water, bandages, and sum extra clothes. This goyl's hoit."  
  
The boys stood for a moment in a confused daze. Spot began to loose his patience with the boys.  
  
"Hey, don't make me have ta beat it into ya, ya bums."  
  
He watched for a minute as the boys scrambled to obey their leader's orders and then he turned and walked into the bunkroom. The only bunk left open was the one under his bed, at the far end of the room next to the window. He carefully placed her onto the bed and knelt beside her to check her wounds.  
  
In the light he could see that her wounds were worse than he thought, she had a giant gash running across her right arm, probably a knife wound. All around her neck was a large red mark made by hands. Her legs were full of nicks and bruises. His blue eyes widened. How could someone do something like this, especially to a girl?  
  
After what seemed like three lifetimes, Aces, Pockets, and Snipes returned with the items he had requested. Rolling up the sleeves on the men's white shirt she was wearing; he carefully cleaned and bandaged her wounds the best he could. Spot wanted to take her to a doctor, but he knew that even if he and all the boys put their money together it wouldn't be enough.  
  
As Spot worked, the girl began thrashing her head about on the pillow in nightmarish motions. Sweat droplets had begun to appear on her forehead and every few minutes he had to stop and wipe her face down with a cold washcloth.  
  
Once he was finished bandaging her up, she had finally settled into a peaceful sleep. Not wanting to leave her alone, he pulled up a chair beside her and all through the night he slept beside her. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Spot awoke to the usual sounds of the boys getting up and ready for work. Yawning and standing up Spot remembered what had happened the night before, and looked to the girl sleeping beside him. The color that had been drained out of her face the night before had returned, revealing the natural blush to her cheeks.  
  
Standing there he took in every detail of her face and body. To him she was the most beautiful creature God had created to walk upon his earth. The shadow he created standing over her woke the girl and she stirred, rolling over onto her side. Her eyes framed by her thick black lashes, fluttered open and she stared startled up at him.  
  
"Hey, you ain't got nothin' to worry 'bout. I'se not gonna hoit ya."  
  
Confusion filled her face, and Spot began to loose his patience with the girl.  
  
Will ya say sumthin', I mean I'se took care of ya and even sat next to ya all night." The girl's eyes focused on his lips as he spoke, and suddenly the confusion melted from her eyes. Sitting up she pointed at her ears and shook her head.  
  
Spot for a moment was taken a back by these motions and didn't know exactly how to interpret them until she repeated the motion again. The thought struck him like a lightening bolt.  
  
"By God," he thought to himself. "This goyl is deaf." 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
All throughout the day Spot's mind was on the girl, who he now called Tuesday, and what exactly to do with her. He had left Pockets to care and watch after her. By the end of the day Spot had only sold about half of his usual 120 papes and hadn't even touched a scrap of food. He had come to realize that The Holocaust, Brooklyn's local gang had probably been the ones who almost killed her, since they would exterminate almost anyone different from them.  
  
The sun had already set when Spot finally walked into the Lodging House, all the boys were spread out either playing cards or talking amongst themselves. Spot walked back into the bunkroom and found Pockets and Tuesday sitting across from each other on the floor playing poker and Tuesday was winning.  
  
Tuesday's back was to Spot but when she noticed Pockets looking up she turned around and flashed a stunning smile at him. Spot was surprised to find his knees get weak and his heart start to pound in his chest, but he shook it off and walked over to them.  
  
"Awright Pockets, you'se can out wid da others, 'for you'se loose all ya money ta Tuesday here."  
  
Pockets grabbed up what money he had left and ran out of the room and into the lobby. The room was silent for a minute and Spot stood uneasily in front of her, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to figure out exactly what to say to her.  
  
"How do you'se talk ta others?" Spot made sure to form his words completely so she could understand what he was saying.  
  
Tuesday sat thinking for a moment before she began to make signs and movements with her hands. Spot tried to mimic her hand movements, sending Tuesday into fits of laughter.  
  
"Can ya teach me?" Tuesday raised her brows slightly and then looked around for a sheet of paper and a pencil. Using her hand as a prop for paper and pretending to have a pencil in her other hand, she pretended to write on her hand.  
  
"Ya want paper and a pencil?"  
  
Tuesday nodded and Spot got up and started rummaging in the nightstand beside his bed before returning with a piece of paper and a pencil. Taking the pencil, Tuesday wrote the letter A on the paper and then made the sign for A. Spot watched her form the letter A and then followed her lead and formed his own A.  
  
All night, Spot and Tuesday worked, and by the time the sun had begun to rise Spot had learned not only the entire alphabet but also the signs for house, mom, dad, cat, dog, man, and woman. He struggled with his name and then realized that he had yet to tell her, her name.  
  
Spot painstakingly worked out the letters to her name, stumbling on E but only for a moment. A smile crept over her lips after he had finished and threw her arms around his neck in a hug. Spot clung to her for a moment not wanting to let her go. And in those few seconds after they let go of each other, Spot realized that he would never be the same. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
Over the next few days Spot began to learn more and more and within a couple weeks they were having their own private conversation. He found out that she was born and raised in Maine and was a poor fisherman's daughter. Her father Glen had been drinking for as long as she could remember and would usually come home drunk and disorderly.  
  
Marion, her mother, was ashamed of her husband but was a small and timid woman and knew better than to confront her husband. Glen would thrash about the house when he got home from work and would yell at her mother telling her that she was nothing and could do nothing.  
  
But still Marion never fought back, until one day. Tuesday had just come back from the market and found that her father drunk as usual, was pushing her mother about the kitchen with violent, sudden movements. Tuesday tried to interfere and was met with a sharp slap in the face. Glen locked Tuesday in her room and went to take care of her mother. Tuesday knew that if she didn't get out he would come back and kill her.  
  
Taking nothing but the clothes on her back she climbed out her window and stowed away on a train bound for New York. Not having a place to stay she slept out on park benches and streets and stole food from vegetable and fruit stands.  
  
The day that Spot found her she had been walking towards the fruit stand when she had accidentally bumped into a large group of boys possessing chains and clubs. They teased her and said that she was on their territory and that she must pay the price. She couldn't even remember the first blow; the only thing she remembered was Spot's eyes looking at her.  
  
Tuesday's eyes were downcast as she relayed the story. Spot felt his heart sink within his chest as he looked at her. Her body looked so fragile and so small, almost like a porcelain doll's that he had to reach out and touch her to make sure that she not just a dream. The rest of the night was spent in silence. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
The sunlight streamed in through the open window and stirred Spot from his sleep. Yawning Spot jumped down from his bunk, rubbing the back of his stiff neck, having slept on it wrong the whole night. It had been two weeks since Tuesday had told Spot about her past and Spot still couldn't go to sleep without dreaming of his own past.  
  
Tuesday was still sleeping soundly and meaning not to wake her, Spot made his way over to the sink that was always left for him to use and grabbed his razor and shaving cream. Aces smirked as he looked over at Spot and quickly towel dried his face, throwing the towel into Brink's face. Aces walked over to Spot and shoved him lightly, getting a threatening look from Spot. Throwing up his hands in the air to show no disrespect, Aces started to laugh.  
  
"Awright, you'se don't have to get so defensive."  
  
Spot scowled at him.  
  
"So what'd ya want?"  
  
Aces rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he glanced around the washroom.  
  
"We's jist wonderin' 'bout you'se and Tuesday, that all."  
  
Spot's eyebrows raised slightly at this.  
  
"What'd ya mean we's?"  
  
"I'se mean me and da boys."  
  
Spot sighed and went back to shaving his face.  
  
"What'd you'se want ta know?"  
  
"Well we's gittin' da idea that you'se and Tuesday are together. And we's think that you'se gittin' soft 'cause of it."  
  
Spot gripped the blade so hard that he dug into his skin as he drug the blade over his cheek, cutting it. Spot reached up to his cheek and touched where he had cut it, drops of bright red blood smudged across his cheek, but he hardly paid it any attention.  
  
The washroom had become silent now, everybody waiting for Spot to reply. Spot's icy blue eyes stared down everyone in the washroom causing some of the boys to tremble.  
  
"I'se not growin' soft. Ya hear? I'se jist lettin' Tuesday here until she recovers. That's all."  
  
"She recovered a week ago, why ain't she gone?" Brink's voice sounded awkward as he spoke up, something that rarely happened when speaking to Spot. Spot's jaw opened but no words passed his lips, only air.  
  
"I'se can prove ta ya that I'se not goin' soft. Tuesday will be gone by sundown, or my name ain't Spot Conlon. A small cheer erupted from the group, and some of them patted Spot's back as they walked past him.  
  
The cut on Spot's cheek slowly began to sting as the drops of blood dripped down his cheek and onto his bare chest, leaving a bright red stain over his heart. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
Spot kept himself up most of the day, constantly fighting back the tears of sorrow that threatened to emerge. His mind kept wandering off, to pictures of Tuesday's face and her smile and also the words he would have to say to her. Not wanting the boys to be at the Lodging House when he told Tuesday and cause a scene, Spot sold all of his papes early and headed back to the Lodging House alone.  
  
He spent half an hour standing on the docks right outside the Lodging House conjuring up all the strength he could muster and headed inside. He found Tuesday sitting Indian style on the wooden floor playing a game of Solitaire. Feeling the movement of the floorboards beneath her, she turned and looked at him, a smile spreading across her cherry colored lips.  
  
Getting up she walked over and began to hug him. Spot fought back the sudden urge to wrap his arms around her and not let go, and pushed her away gently. A look of hurt swept over Tuesday's face and she looked at him with her dark green eyes; pools filled with confusion. Tuesday began to sign:  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
Spot hesitated for a moment, having forgotten what he was going to tell her. Spot signed slowly, not for a single moment being able to look her in the eyes.  
  
"I'se don't know how to tell ya this but I can't be with you. You must leave tonight." Spot's arm dropped to his side and he stared at his feet.  
  
Tuesday cupped her hands around his face and lifted his head up so that she might gaze into his eyes, but Spot averted them quickly not wanting her to see the glisten in them from the fresh tears.  
  
"Please," she signed. "Please tell me what's wrong? Have I done something to anger you?"  
  
Outside droplets of rain began to splatter against the window with heavy thuds falling quicker and quicker with each passing moment. Spot's hands moved quicker now.  
  
"No, no you did nothing wrong, it was I who did something wrong. I should have never brought you back here with me. I should never have let you stay here this long. I should have never let the boys get the impression that I loved you."  
  
Tuesday's heart sank in her chest, her throat closed up on her, making it almost impossible to breathe. But before she could do anything he went on.  
  
"I am the fearless Spot Conlon. A man who strikes fear into many hearts as he walks by. A man who shows no mercy to people lower than myself. I only brought you here to heal you and then to let you go. That's all. I never meant for you to stay."  
  
Tuesday's face flushed red with anger and her hand flew making contact with his cheek, hard. Tears flowed steadily now down her cheek and her bottom lip quivered with anger and embarrassment.  
  
Turning Tuesday ran out of the bunkroom. A bolt of lightening flashed in the darkened sky, lighting up the room, before the heavy boom of thunder shook the house. A red handprint was left where Tuesday had struck him. With the rain pouring in through the open window, Spot sank to his knees and began to cry. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
Tuesday ran as hard and as fast as her legs would carry her. She wanted to get as far away from the Lodging House and Spot as she could, away from the pain and agony that trailed her, away form the heartbreak that she had found. Rain poured from over her head, soaking Tuesday head to toe, the thunder rolled across the sky.  
  
Tuesday found herself running up and down the deserted streets, her boots becoming soaked from the muddy puddles. Tuesday's hair had come undone a while back and was now stuck to the sides of her face. A flash of lightening streaked across the sky and hit the ground somewhere near her. Startled, Tuesday turned to run a different way when of her boots slipped across the pavement and she fell hitting the ground hard on her side.  
  
The wind had been knocked out of her and Tuesday gasped for air as she stood up and glanced around her, looking for shelter. All the doors and windows to the houses around her were shut and bolted shut. Tuesday's heart pounded within her chest. Nothing. Nothing. Then suddenly something caught the corner of her eye, and alleyway.  
  
Tuesday ran with what strength she had left to the alley that luckily was sheltered from the rain by the roofs of the two houses that stuck out and almost touched one another. Tuesday managed to make it to the alley with the last of her energy and collapsed into the darkness beneath her own little haven. 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
Spot sat with his back against the trunk in front of his bunk bed, his legs pulled up to his chest and chin resting on his knees. His eyes were puffy and red from crying, and his cheeks were still stained with wet tears.  
  
His mind was racing. What should I do? Should I go and try to find her? Should I tell the boys the truth? What would they think of me then? Do I really care what they think? Downstairs he could hear the other boys paying Kloppman and running up the stairs towards the bunkroom. I have to make a decision now. What am I going to do?  
  
Spot suddenly stood up, not even caring to wipe the fresh tears from his eyes, as the boys walked in. King of Spades, a tall, lanky boy with slicked back hair and dark eyes, was the first one in the door and the first one to receive a shock looking at Spot.  
  
"Heya Spot, are you'se OK? You'se looks as though you'se been cryin'."  
  
Some boys nodded in agreement while others just stood there with their mouths hanging open. Spot pushed through the boys and made his way down the stairs and out the front door. Outside the wind whipped around Spot's face and body and the rain pelted his skin.  
  
Spot began to walk down the street heading towards the Brooklyn Bridge, making sure to look in every alleyway for Tuesday. Spot's muscles tensed in anger at himself for having listened to the other boys. How could I have been so stupid? She meant everything to me, and I just tossed her aside like some dirty, old newspaper. I have to find her before it's too late. Before it's too late. 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
Tuesday lay unconscious, curled up in a defensive, fetal position in a puddle of mud. Her cheeks flushed with fever while the rest of her body shook uncontrollably. Her eyes began to twitch open when she saw several shadows hanging over her.  
  
"Heya Shawn, what should we's do with here goyl?"  
  
Tuesday looked up at a very small, but bulked up boy as he spoke. He and the three others were just as soaked as she was. A tall, tanned boy, around eighteen years old, who was probably the leader Tuesday thought, leaned over her examining her closely.  
  
"Hey ain't dis da goyl that we's found and taught a lesson a few weeks back?" The other boys nodded, looking at her. "Yeah she was caught by the bulls stealin', but somehows got away. Luckily we's caught her though."  
  
This got a couple of laughs from the others. Shawn suddenly leaned over and grabbed a handful of her mangled hair and pulled her up so that she was standing and even then he didn't let go of her hair. Tuesday struggled to loosen his grip and swung out a couple times at him, missing each time. The leader began to laugh with the other boys.  
  
"Heya, fellas, we's got us a real spitfire here."  
  
"I wonder if she's like that all the time." One of the boys cried out between breaths.  
  
"She looks like a fish on a hook." Another one said.  
  
Shawn laughed and then reached into his pocket pulling out a small knife that glistened against the moon's rays.  
  
"Well if she's a fish I guess we will have to gut her now won't we?"  
  
Tuesday's face paled as Shawn raised the knife up above his head, a look of insanity gleaming in his eyes. Tuesday shut her eyes and prepared for the blow when suddenly Spot tore out of the shadows and flung himself into Shawn. The knife dropped from Shawn's hands as he was shoved into the brick wall beside him. The other three boys fled in horror and took off in opposite directions down the street. Shawn wiped a thin stream of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.  
  
"Well, well, well, Conlon has gone soft. Da last person I thought would go soft."  
  
Shawn stood up and walked towards Spot who was now shielding Tuesday from Shawn.  
  
"What, Conlon you sweet on dis goyl?"  
  
Spot's face remained emotionless.  
  
"Stay away from her Shawn. I swears that I'se will cripple ya if you'se so much as lay a finger on her. You'se shouldn't pick on someone weaker and smaller than yourself jist ta make yourself feel stronger. Because it don't make you stronger it makes you weaker 'cause you'se gots to pick on others."  
  
Shawn shifted uneasily as he looked at him.  
  
"I love her jist da way she is, and I wouldn't change her for the world. She's beautiful and perfect jist da way God created her. You jist don't have da heart ta see that, do you?"  
  
The wind had calmed by now and the rain had let up, the only sound now was the soft thundering of the distant storm. Shawn's eyes never left Spot's face. They seemed to be searching it. After a moment Shawn's head dropped in surrender and he walked slowly out of the alleyway.  
  
Spot heaved a sigh of relief after Shawn left and he turned to look at Tuesday. Her hair was matted against her head, her clothes ripped. She looked just the way she did when Spot first found her. But now he didn't see her dirty face, or her soaked clothes. He didn't see the handicap that had plagued her entire life. The only thing he saw was her. And to him in those few minutes of nothing between them, silence was beautiful. 


End file.
